Depression
by lilylunaluver
Summary: A lot of the characters in Harry Potter went through a lot. I just didn't feel so great one day, and decided to write the Big Seven's most depressing moments. Very sad, mentions of self harm and bullying. Draco's is especially bad. Rated T because feels and depression. R
1. Hermione

She was locked in the bathroom, crying.

That, that _arse_ Ronald Weasley! He had the _audacity_ to say she had no friends! That she was a _nightmare_! A sob escaped from her throat.

He was right.

She didn't have any friends, she was a nightmare. She was too stuck up, haughty, annoying.

It was no different here than it had been at home.

At least in the Muggle world, she had her parents to make her feel better. But they had been fighting for a while now, and she was worried that they might get a divorce. If she didn't have her parents, their united front, then who would she have?

No one.

There, she was always weird. Strange things followed her. Her book turned their own pages and the leaves and flowers seemed to gravitate towards her. She understood it now. It was magic. But it was still strange.

She was that freaky little girl, the Bookworm, the Nightmare.

The Weasley boy's angry, annoyed face at her success in getting the spell to work seemed to haunt her. She was too good, too talented for her own good.

Why could she do everything so well? Why did she have to be so good at everything?

Except making friends, of course.

Tears continued to roll down her cheeks. She was so awful. She would never have any friends. She was worth nothing.

She thought about that word the Malfoy boy kept hissing at her whenever she passed him.

_Mudblood_.

It sounded like a bad thing.

Yes, she was a Mudblood. She was awful and bad.

Hermione sobbed some more.


	2. Neville

It was Christmas, and he was busy visiting his parents in St. Mungo's.

His mother's pale, blank eyes watched him as he chattered about school, how it was so wonderful, how he loved it.

It was as though she knew he was lying.

He stared at his mother and father, with their blank eyes. Why did they have to be like this? Why couldn't they get better?

Did they not want to, so that they didn't have to think about their failure of a son?

He thought about how the boys in his dorms gave him those pitying looks. How Professor Snape glared at him so coldly. How Malfoy laughed at him and he was hexed again and again.

Why wasn't he any good?

His mother made a strangled sound and he walked over to her. "Mum? What's wrong?"

She gave him the wrapper for the bubblegum again. He put it in his pocket and sighed.

"Mum, since Grandmum isn't here right now, I'm going to tell you the truth. School sucks. I'm no good at magic, I don't have any real friends, everyone laughs at me, the only thing I'm good at is Herbology. Herbology! I shouldn't have been a Gryffindor. I would have made an excellent Hufflepuff. You know that. I think the Sorting Hat sorted me wrong. Is it too late to change?" He had tears running down his cheeks as he anxiously watched how his mother would react.

She reached out and stroked his cheek, babbling in some other language. She didn't understand him. She couldn't. It was all Bellatrix's fault.

He grabbed her hand, and wiped the tears off his cheeks. By the time his Grandmum came back from the Tea Shop, he was eagerly talking about his friends and his classes, how wonderful they were.

He lied to help everyone else. Neville wished he didn't have to.


	3. Ginny

_Dear Tom,_

_The Slytherins bullied me again today. Colin stood up for me, and they hexed him. Snape came down just as I started to attack them, and took away points. Of course, Colin wasn't important enough to him. He's just a Mudblood! Oh merlin, it feels awful writing that. But it's true – and Snape probably supports the monster and the attack that happed last week. I hope Colin isn't attacked. He's so nice!_

_Harry still won't look at me. I love him so much it hurts, but he doesn't see me. I hope he figures out the attack before another one happens. Oh Tom, why do bad things happen? Granted, Mrs Norris deserved it – at least that's what all the upper years say. I think she's just a poor cat, but who cares about my opinion?_

_Tom, I've been feeling weird lately. I still can't remember what happened on Halloween. And just yesterday, I had feathers all down my front. Do you know why I had feathers, and last week red paint (just like on the wall!) down my front? Am I doing it accidentally? How?_

_Please write back. You're my only friend. Other than Colin, but I'm not sure he counts._

_Love,_

_Ginny_

* * *

_Dear Ginny,_

_Those guys seem mean. That House must have gotten worse since I was there – I was a Slytherin, and we were all polite and kind. Snape seems terrible. He must favour them or something. Don't worry Ginny, I favour you. I bet you're right. Snape probably likes the attacks. I hope your friend is safe too._

_Harry is an idiot for not loving you like you love him. He just can't see what's in front of is eyes. Don't worry. It'll get better. I promise. You're right – Mrs Norris was just a poor cat. Filch, on the other hand… don't get too friendly with him, dear. He's bad news – a Squib. I care about your opinion!_

_I think you are just nervous. I'll bet you just accidentally embarrassed yourself on Halloween with some paint and your memory blocked it for your own good. Same thing with the feathers. Pillows, maybe? You could never be attacking anyone – you're too nice!_

_I'll always write back, dear. I'm sorry I'm your only friend. I promise I'm here for you._

_Love,_

_Tom_


	4. Ron

He could hear her screaming. They were torturing her. He loved her so much, and they were hurting her. And there was nothing he could do about it, locked up in this stupid dungeon.

Why hadn't he seen it before? He'd left her at a time of need – several times – and he'd dated Lavender, the blonde bimbo. Why had he done that?

He was an idiot. And an arse. And she was still screaming, still screaming, as that bitch tortured her for information. Information, incidentally, she didn't have. The one piece they didn't know.

Why did they have to choose her? It should be him up there, hurting and screaming. She had done nothing. He deserved to be punished – everything he'd done was unforgivable.

Harry was staring at the ceiling with a pained expression on his face – he knew Hermione was like a sister to Harry – and he stared at it too as the screams of his only love echoed around him.

A particularly loud shriek made him begin to shout for her – he had to save her – he had to do something!

There was nothing he could do.

Ron sat back down and tried not to cry for his one true love.


	5. Harry

He sat on the bunk, staring at the scars on his hand. He had knew scars, on his arm and his chest, as well as the infamous one atop his head, but the one on his hand pissed him off the most.

Bloody toad.

These scars were the result of pure, undiluted idiocy. People in power refused to believe what was in front of their bloody eyes and took it out the rest of them. Especially him.

Why was it always him? What about him attracted trouble so bloody often?

He clenched his fist again. No one had believed him. Ron hadn't believed him in Fourth Year, when his name was out in the Goblet. And Ron was gone now. Hermione still cried, though she'd never admit it. She loved him, that much was obvious.

He missed Ginny.

He loved her so much. He sighed, grabbed the map and got to staring. Her little dot was – where was it? Oh yeah, it was Christmas break. She would have left. He honestly didn't blame her, with Snape ruling the school, it must be awful. But a little, selfish part of him wished she had stayed so he could watch her dot.

The Horcruxes. He sighed, set aside the map, look at the locket. How the bloody hell was he supposed to destroy it without the sword? Snape had it. He would never get it.

And how did it open? He had some ideas, mainly Parseltongue, and he didn't like it. It would put up a fight, he knew it. He wondered what would be seen.

He rubbed his head. He didn't want to think about all that now.

His parents.

He saw what happened, that night. He saw how his father stood gallantly, how his mother refused to leave his side.

How he almost died.

What would happen, it Voldemort tried again?

Harry shook his head and fell into a restless sleep, filled with obligations and nightmares much more terrible than ought to be for a seventeen-year-old.


	6. Luna

The whispers in the hallways seemed to follow her wherever she went.

She skipped past the strange stares, ignoring the hushed tones that called, reaching with tentacles to pull her back again and again, assaulting her ears.

_Freak_.

Every day, it hurt. She was only twelve, yet she had no friends, only one person in her family.

She watched her mother die before her very eyes.

Sometimes she wondered if she was crazy. Her mother had died, what if it had hurt her mind more than she thought?

She probably was crazy.

She skipped into the library, to the back corner no one noticed where no one bothered her, and set up her books.

She needed to do well in school. She was a Ravenclaw, after all, and it was her only way of feeling better.

Her sleeves slipped up, showing the tiny white scars on her wrists, and she pulled at the cloth, hiding them.

The pulled out a quill and ink, and began to write her History of Magic essay.

Suddenly, she heard a noise. She turned around, to see a bushy-haired girl staring at her. That girl was a friend of Harry Potter.

"Can I sit here?"

"Sure." She smiled lightly, and turned back to her work.

"I like your necklace."

"Thank you. It keeps away the nargles."

She could feel the girl's eyes on her, incredulous. The girl already thought she was crazy. Couldn't she have waited a while before seeming like a freak?

Luna turned back to her work. It wasn't like it mattered, anyway.


End file.
